Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“I know.”
The soft smile emerged, but it only lasted a few seconds, her eyes mirroring that gesture.
She had full lips, but their plumpness could disappear the second she was upset. She pressed them tightly together whenever she was overwhelmed. In bed, she bit her bottom lip, which was distinctly different. Her green eyes reminded me of pines caked underneath piles of snow. Evergreen. Earthly. Soulful. She had high cheekbones, an elegant neck with a hollow in her throat, beautiful skin that had faded freckles in some places. Her dark hair reminded me of the mane of my horse, thick and long, moving in the most magnificent way every time she moved.
So many details I’d never noticed before.
Her eyes shifted from side to side, as if regarding me with the same distinction. It was quiet in the house, with the exception of the dishwasher behind her. It was just the two of us, and that same look came on to her face, the same look she’d worn on the couch when her hand grasped mine. “Are you staying home tonight?”
I gave a nod that was so slight, no one else would have noticed.
But she did—because her eyes hadn’t left my face.
The instant I moved in, a breath filled her parted lips. She sucked the air into her lungs like she’d just breached the surface. Her eyes instantly glossed over with throes of passion that hadn’t yet begun. Her mouth was open for me before I even got there, and once my chest was against hers, her arms hooked around my neck and she pulled me closer, needing as much of my mouth as I would give her.
My hand immediately slipped underneath her blouse so I could feel the bare skin of her back, my fingers spanning across the warm and soft skin. My other hand was deep in her hair, pushing it away so I could kiss her with the same heat she gave me. Tongues came together. Breaths were exchanged. The fire ignited as if gasoline had been thrown on top.
My arm scooped under her ass, and I lifted her into me. The kiss didn’t break. Her hand dug into my hair as I carried her into my bedroom, her legs around my waist. She writhed against me even though we were fully clothed.
We stepped into the darkness. The door was shut. The bed was unmade. I laid her down and immediately pulled off her boots before I dragged her jeans down her long legs. Her nails yanked my shirt off in the process before she palmed my chest. My bottoms were pulled down, the condom was slid on, and then I was inside her.
She moaned like it was the first time.
With my arms behind her knees, I took her in the middle of the bed, her small body folded underneath mine, watching her moan and breathe through the thrusts. Her blouse was still on because we were in too much of a rush to stop for that.
We moved together, slow and deep, our lips coming together for brief moments of exchange before the pleasure of our wet bodies overcame us. We breathed together, groaned together, writhed in mutual ecstasy.
It ended for both of us at the same time, her nails digging into my chest, my body shoving her deeper into the mattress. Our final groans released, and then it was just our breathing, shallow and labored.
She pulled my lips to hers and kissed me, a slow and thorough kiss, purposeful.
My eyes closed to appreciate it, to soak in the feeling of her soft lips against mine, showing me another layer of affection that had nothing to do with lust.
I pulled away, cleaned up, and then returned to the bed beside her.
My sleep schedule was out of whack, going from days to night, and then back to days again.
But I was tired, nonetheless.
Like last time, she had no intention of leaving. She pulled the sheets to her shoulder, tugged a pillow to her chest, and closed her eyes to sleep. Her body went still, like she was already drifting off.
I would have asked anyone else to leave.
But not her.
I opened the door to the back seat of the blacked-out SUV that was parked outside my apartment. It was the middle of the night, the exhaust rising like smoke in the freezing nighttime air. The street was deserted.
Bartholomew was in the other seat, and he nodded to the chair beside him. “Get in.”
I climbed inside, shut the door, and the vehicle took off. “What’s happening?”
Bartholomew gave me a side glance from his side of the car, dressed in a black jacket with a blacked-out watch on his wrist. His knees were far apart, his military boots planted firmly to the carpet. “Can you keep your shit together?”
“I always keep my shit together.”